


The Lines on Your Page of Memories

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Kid Fic, POV Outsider, Past Bellamy/OFC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 15:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4925596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy's daughter wishes her father was the best at something other than talking. She loves him but, really, he could be cooler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lines on Your Page of Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever get inspired by To Kill a Mockingbird in totally bizarre ways? Anyway, have some canonverse single dad Bellamy, because, you know. Things have happened in my life.
> 
> Also, totally unrelated to this fic, but might as well mention it, I'm taking holiday prompts over on tumblr until October 10! If you'd like me to write you something, check out [this post](http://chasholidays.tumblr.com/post/130298996786/holiday-prompts-open). You will need to have a tumblr, sorry.

The thing that bothers Ari, really, is that her father _must_ be interesting.

"He's definitely not," Clarke says, grinning, and Dad rolls his eyes at her.

"Thanks."

"Everyone _else_ did cool stuff, back when we came to the ground," Ari continues. "Aunt Octavia still does. She hunts and fishes and--does everything. And all Dad does is _read_."

"Your mom did all kinds of cool stuff, she was a great warrior," Clarke says. "You dad just did whatever the hell he wanted."

"Clarke," says Dad. It's not his _we are having a serious conversation_ voice, but it's the voice he uses to let her know it's coming, if she doesn't stop whatever she's doing. But Clarke is immune to all Dad's voices, from what Ari can tell. "What are you even doing here?" he asks, when Clarke just smiles.

"Ari's helping me make bandages."

"And Clarke knows you better than anyone," says Ari. "So she should know what you're good at."

"I'm good at plenty of stuff. You _know_ I'm good at stuff."

"He's really good at talking all the time," Clarke says. "How do you think he got to be the leader? It was the only way we could get him to shut up."

"Okay, I get it," says Dad, standing. "You don't want me here. You only say nice things about me when I'm not around. Where's Jason?"

"Uncle Nate is teaching him how to make traps," Ari says. And then, because she can't help it, "See? Uncle Nate knows cool stuff too. All Dad ever teaches us is history and mythology."

Dad snorts and leans down to kiss her on the head as he leaves. Clarke smiles at him and then turns her attention back to Ari.

"No daughter of Bellamy's doesn't think mythology is cool," she says, with a teasing grin.

"It is, but it's not--" Ari checks to make sure Dad is gone, because it's one thing to say he never does anything interesting, he just laughs at that. But her dad is the best dad in the entire world, and she knows that for sure, for absolutely certain. She just sometimes wishes things, things he shouldn't know. "Everyone's always saying stuff, like, you know. _My dad is the best hunter_ and _my mom is the best shot_. No one says their dad is the best at talking."

"That's because they know your dad is the best at talking, they're not gonna try to beat him," says Clarke, with a small smile, but Ari can tell she's thinking about it. Clarke is Dad's best friend, and she can make fun of him like Ari can, teasing him because she knows that he's really the best, and he likes when he gets to be grumpy and dramatic. "Look, as you grow up, you're going to care about different stuff. When I was your age, all I wanted to do was draw all the time. I thought I was gonna be a famous artist on the Ark. And now, I still draw, but it's just--for fun. Every now and then."

"What did Dad do when he was my age?"

"Took care of your Aunt Octavia, I guess. I don't really know. I didn't know him when he was your age."

Ari's jaw drops. Of course Clarke knew Dad. Clarke has _always_ known Dad. It's hard to imagine Dad without Clarke. Jason says it's because Mom died when Ari was born, and Clarke wanted to help, so she started being around more. She didn't do all the things a mom would have done, but Ari thinks it's not so bad, not having a mom, when you have a dad and a brother, and Aunt Octavia and Uncle Lincoln, and Uncle Nate and Uncle Monty, and Clarke. She has plenty of people.

"How old are you now?" Clarke asks, even though she knows. Adults always ask kids that.

"Seven."

"When your dad was seven, I was only two years old," says Clarke. "Even if I knew him, I wouldn't have been able to talk to him." She picks up one of Ari's bandages, inspecting it. "I didn't meet your dad until we got to the ground."

Ari knows Dad was _old_ when he got to the ground. More than twenty. "But that's so long! How could you you not know him for that long? You're always with Dad."

Clarke looks away. "Yeah, I don't know sometimes either," she says.

Ari scoots closer. "What was it like? When you met him?"

Clarke smiles. "We argued all the time. We didn't agree about anything. And then one day, we did."

"Did he shoot stuff?"

"Why does it matter if he shot stuff?"

"You shot stuff. I heard Peter talking, his dad said you did whatever it took to take care of everyone. That means you would have been fighting." It sounded like Peter thought it was a bad thing, but that doesn't make sense to Ari. You're supposed to take care of the people you love. That's the most important thing.

Clarke is quiet for a long time. "Ariadne," she says, and Ari straightens, because no one ever calls her that, not unless it's important. "Your dad and I--both of us did a lot of things when we came down here. We did what we thought we had to. And it's hard to be proud of the stuff you do, when you don't have a choice. If you only had one thing to eat for dinner, you wouldn't be excited about deciding to eat it right? It's just what you had. And I think that's how your dad feels about--hunting and shooting and wars. He's not proud of what he did in those because he did what he had to do. He's proud of reading and mediating arguments and teaching you guys history. Because that's what he wants to be good at."

"So he _could_ shoot stuff," says Ari.

Clarke laughs. "I don't know if he could anymore, he's probably pretty rusty. Your dad is good at a lot of stuff, Ari. And he's the least boring person I have ever met. But don't tell him I told you that, okay?"

"Okay," says Ari. "Can you shoot?"

"Not anymore."

"So you can't teach me?"

"No. Get Uncle Nate or Aunt Octavia to teach you. Your dad and I are done with that." She touches the bandages. "But if you want to learn how to sew up someone's leg, I'll show you that. It's pretty cool too."

Ari tries to let it go, does her best to forget it, but she can't help asking Jason that night, "Does Dad ever talk to you about when they came to the ground?"

Jason is three years older than Ari, and he thinks he knows _everything_. But that doesn't mean he'll tell her stuff, because he likes knowing more than she does. But he must have wondered about Dad too, and he's had longer to figure it out.

"What about it?" he asks. He's working on carving something, but she can't tell what. Jason isn't very good at carving.

"What he did," she says. "He's the leader, right? And back then we were fighting all the time, no alliances or whatever, so he must have been a warrior, right?"

It's hard to imagine it, watching him across the fire. He's sitting with Clarke, leaning in close to talk to her. He's not _that_ old, she knows. He's only thirty-five, but he has more gray in his hair than most of the grandparents, and he wears his glasses all the time now, not just to read. Although Ari thinks that might be because he always might have to read, and he doesn't want to be caught unprepared.

Everyone fought, when they got to the ground. And if Dad survived, if he was a leader, her must have been good at it, Clarke too. And Ari doesn't see why he'd _stop_ being a great warrior. Ari's going to be one. Aunt Octavia says she has a lot of potential, and she's the best at making snares of all the kids, even better than Jason. She can't wait to grow up and learn to fight. If they were with her mom's people, with the Azgeda, then she'd already be learning.

But she wouldn't be with Dad and Jason and everyone else, and it's worth waiting to be a warrior for that.

"Probably," says Jason, like he doesn't care. "Who cares?"

"Why don't _you_ care?" she asks, scowling and kicking his leg. "Don't you want to tell everyone--"

"He's the leader. Him and Clarke. We don't have to brag about what Dad used to do, everyone knows he's in charge _now_."

"But if he got in a fight with Uncle Nate--"

"They wouldn't, because they're friends, and Uncle Nate trusts him. Uncle Nate would never do that." He takes off a chunk of wood so far it flies through the fire and lands in front of Dad and Clarke. 

"Everything okay over there?" Dad calls, and Jason waves him off.

"Look, if he wanted us to know, he'd tell us, right?" Jason asks. "So leave it alone. What does it matter?"

"It doesn't," Ari insists. "But don't you _want_ to know?"

"No," he says, short. "And neither do you."

He gets up and stalks over to sit with Peter and Rylla, and Ari sighs. Jason is so _stupid_ sometimes. Dad probably won't tell him either, and he's pissed because he doesn't know. Jason hates not knowing things. 

She goes to sit with Dad and Clarke, and Clarke puts her arm around her.

"What happened?"

"He's just being Jason," she says, and Clarke smiles.

"Times like this, I'm glad I don't have a brother. Between Bellamy and Jason--"

"Ha ha," says Dad. He looks at Ari, like he can see right through her. It always makes her squirm, when he does that, and remember all the bad stuff she's done in the last week. "Come over here," he says, pulling Ari into his lap. "What got you thinking about this?" he asks. "What I did when we came to the ground."

"I dunno," she says, shifting a little to get more comfortable. "I should know, right? You're my dad."

"It's not important," he says.

"It _is_." She bites her lips. "I heard some of the Woods kids talking. About you and Clarke. They said you were--I dunno. They acted like they were really _impressed_ , like you two were important. And when I asked, they said everyone knows about Clarke and Bellamy. And they wouldn't be talking about you just for--being good doctors and being the best at treaties and history."

Dad ruffles her hair. "I did do a pretty great treaty," he says. There's a pause, and when Ari looks back up at him, he and Clarke are having one of their silent conversations. "Go get your brother, okay? I'm only telling this story once." He offers Clarke a smile. "You coming?"

"Obviously," she says. "I love story time."

"We'll do it in the house," Dad says. He stands, offers Clarke his hand and pulls her up. "Around a fire, it feels too much like a ghost story."

Ari goes to get Jason, can't help a small, sharp burst of smug triumph when he scowls. Jason tried to get Dad to tell him, too, but he didn't. Ari's the one who convinced him to talk.

"You sure?" she hears Clarke asking when they're outside the door.

"I should be asking you. Yours is worse."

"Let's not get into a war-crimes contest, Bellamy."

"Seriously, I won't--"

"It's fine. Really. If they stop wanting me around--"

"You're not going anywhere," Dad says, as fierce as Ari as ever heard him.

She and Jason exchange a look, and then Jason nods and pushes the door open. Dad and Clarke aren't exactly arguing, but they're looking at each other like Ari's only seen them look during council meetings when they disagree.

"We interrupting something?" Jason asks, and the tension breaks.

"You're a brat," says Dad, affectionate, no sign of tension left in his voice. "Close the door."

Ari sits down on Dad's bed, and Jason sits next to her, Clarke leaning against the table and Dad pacing. It's how family discussions usually go.

"I was waiting until you two were old enough for this, but--I guess now's as good a time as any." He runs his hand through his hair. "I wasn't a good guy when we came down."

"He was," Clarke says, instant. "He just kind of forgot. For a little while."

"Thanks," Dad says, like he's trying not to smile. "You guys know about Aunt Octavia, back on the Ark."

"She wasn't supposed to be born," Jason says. Ari nods. It's why they're the only kids who have a _real_ aunt, one who's really related to them. "She lived under the floor. And when they found her they locked her up."

Dad nods. "I used to be a guard. Or, I was training to be one. When they found out about your aunt, I got demoted, your grandmother got floated, and Octavia got put in jail."

"You were the only one who wasn't in jail," Ari says. "When the first group came down."

"Right." Dad licks his lips, and Clarke pushes off the table to stand next to him, lacing her fingers in hers. Ari's never seen them holding hands before, but Dad doesn't look surprised. He just smiles. "I got to the ground because I shot Mr. Jaha." He gives Ari a wry smile. "So, yes, I can shoot people."

"And he thought he killed Mr. Jaha," Clarke says. "We know he didn't now, but--he was really worried. And stupid."

Dad laughs. "Clarke was definitely my biggest fan," he says, and she grins at him. 

"The biggest."

Dad lets go of Clarke's hand to rub the back of his neck. "I'm not proud of a lot of what I did on the ground, that first month. Clarke had to, uh--well, she kicked my ass a lot. Just to get me in line."

"He was afraid that if the rest of the Ark came down, they'd lock him up, and there wouldn't be anyone to take care of your Aunt Octavia," Clarke says. "That was back before he realized Aunt Octavia takes care of all of us, not the other way around."

"Were you the leader already?" Ari asks.

"We both were," Dad says. "Together." It's Clarke's turn to look embarrassed now, and Dad shifts closer to her again. "Together," he says again, firmly.

"Your dad's being nice to me," says Clarke, soft. "He hasn't told you guys stuff, because he knows I have a lot to be ashamed of too."

"Those first few months, it was hard. We did a lot of stuff because we thought we had to. We both did," he adds, more to Clarke than to them. 

"I didn't want to tell you guys what I did." She smiles a little. "Maybe that's part of why I never had kids of my own. I don't know what I'd tell them." She wets her lips. "You said I was always with your dad, Ari, and that's not true. I--I made a lot of hard decisions, to protect everyone. I killed a lot of people. Not with a gun, but I am a decent shot. But I killed people, and I let them die, which is a lot like killing them myself." She wets her lips. "It's not something to be proud of, doing things like that. You do it because you have to, and after, you try to live with yourself. And--I couldn't. I had to leave. Everyone. And that's when your dad stopped fighting. He took care of people, and he didn't touch guns, and he--" She looks down, like she might cry. Dad's arm is around her in a second, and she leans into him. "He made treaties, he made peace, he got married. He did everything right. That's the stuff you should tell your friends about, not that he can shoot well."

"But I can," Dad says. "Or, I could. I haven't touched a gun in twelve years."

"What did you do, Clarke?" asks Jason.

"I was gone for a while," she says. "A year."

"She was only eighteen," Dad says, harsh, and Jason and Ari both wince, even though he's not mad at them. He smiles. "Sorry. Just--you have to stop being mad at yourself eventually, Clarke. I took care of it. I _rocked it_. If you'd been around, maybe we would have just kept on going to war. I got shit done while you were gone."

Clarke laughs a little, sagging against Dad's side. "Yeah, you're right. If I was around, I would have just told you to kill everyone. That's totally my style."

"If you were around, we would have never gotten the Azgeda treaty," says Dad, voice soft. 

Ari perks up. "That was Mom's treaty," she says.

"Yup. Me and your mom got married to secure that one," says Dad. 

"I knew all this stuff," Jason says, sounding annoyed. "Except that Clarke left. I mean, I didn't know _exactly_ , but I figured it out. Everyone knows you guys did bad stuff before the treaties. That's how you _got_ the treaties. Mom's clan and Uncle Lincoln's clan--they were afraid of what you did."

"We were afraid too." Dad sighs, like he's tired. Clarke rests her head on his shoulder. "Look, I'm telling you this because it's part of who I am. And you should know. I haven't always been a good guy. But I'm trying to be the best guy I can be."

"And that's why we're never going to teach you how to shoot or how to hunt," Clarke says. "But we'll teach you how to heal and how to talk and way more history than you can stand. And everything else--" She looks at Dad. "You should be proud of your dad. There's no better guy in the world. He's one hell of a shot, when he needs to be. And he's cooler than Uncle Nate and Aunt Octavia put together."

"That's definitely not true," Dad says, but he's smiling, eyes warm on Clarke.

"Just don't brag about it," Clarke says, ignoring him. "You've got better things to brag about than how many people we killed when we got down here. Like how many people your dad's saved."

" _We've_ saved," Dad insists, and Clarke smiles.

"They don't brag about me, Bell."

"Yeah, we do," says Ari. "Why wouldn't we? You're ours too."

Clarke looks--Ari doesn't know how Clarke looks. She's never seen Clarke's expression like that before, mouth slightly open, eyes raw, like she might cry.

"You are," Dad agrees, and presses his lips to Clarke's hair. "Okay, it's late. Bedtime for you guys. I'll tell you another story," he says. "So you've got something better in your heads than that."

Ari never minds hearing Dad tell a story, but--she doesn't think what he said was so bad. He protected everyone. He and Clarke did.

The worst part is that Clarke was gone. Dad and Clarke being apart makes Ari feel itchy, antsy under her skin. It's _wrong_ , like the sun coming out at night. Dad and Clarke are supposed to be together. They're a team.

"So, let's see," says Dad, sitting in the chair next to Ari's bed. "How about--the story of Penelope."

"Odysseus's wife?"

"Yup." There's a sound, and Ari turns to see Clarke, going to the door. "Stay," says Dad. "This is a good one."

Clarke comes over, and Ari scoots so she can sit on the edge of the bed. "I already know this one."

"Yeah, well," says Dad. "You should listen to it again." He smooths down Ari's hair with a soft smile. Jason pretends he doesn't like stories anymore, but Dad always talks loud enough he can hear, and he always listens. "So, Odysseus is off fighting in the Trojan War. You remember that? Paris decides he wants the most beautiful woman in all the world, even though she's taken."

"Paris was a dick," says Jason, and Dad smiles.

"Exactly. So, Odysseus was actually the one who figured out how to get Helen married to Meneleus in the first place. And in exchange, he got to marry Penelope. But he and everyone else who wanted to marry Helen also had to agree to support Helen and whoever got to marry her if anything bad ever happened. So when the Trojan War starts, Odysseus has to go. He tried to get out of it, because he knew if he left, he wouldn't see his home for a long time. But he couldn't, so he goes. And the Trojan War, that took ten years, and then he was gone for another ten years, trying to get back through all sorts of stuff." Dad wets his lips, and looks at Clarke. "But this is about Penelope. And Penelope--she just waited." He smiles a little. "And waiting sucks. Everyone knows waiting sucks. I--" He sighs. "When I was younger, I always felt like I was waiting for stuff to go wrong. Waiting for Octavia to get discovered, waiting for her to get floated, waiting for the Ark to come and kill me. And I got tired of waiting, once I got down here. But--it's not so bad. If you're waiting for the right thing."

"This isn't much of a story, Dad," says Ari.

"Yeah, seriously, Bellamy," says Clarke. "No plot, no character development--"

"Everyone's a critic," he says. "So, yeah, Penelope waits, but she's still a queen with a pretty great kingdom, so a lot of guys show up in Ithaca, wanting to marry her. And she keeps putting it off. She says she'll get married when she finishes a tapestry, but she unravels it at night, so she never will. And when they figure it out, she sets an impossible task. Something only Odysseus could do. String his bow and shoot an arrow through twelve axes. And Odysseus came home, disguised as a beggar, and did it."

"And they lived happily ever after?" Ari asks.

"As close as anyone comes in Greek mythology, yeah." He licks his lips. "Some people are worth waiting for, Ari. The important ones. They always come back." He leans down and kisses her on the forehead. "Go to sleep."

Clarke squeezes her hand, and then Ari feels the shift in weight as she gets off the bed and follows Dad out.

"Do you think that was true?" she asks, once the adults are gone.

"What was true?" asks Jason.

"All of it. Do you really think Clarke left? After what she and Dad did? And that's why he doesn't fight anymore?"

"Yeah."

"But she'd never leave us."

"It was a long time ago," Jason says, and Ari can hear the rustling of his sheets as he turns over in bed. "You don't have to worry, Ari, Clarke's not going anywhere."

But if Clarke left before, if Clarke didn't even know Dad until they got to the ground, and then left, before they'd even been here for a year, then Ari feels like she can't be sure about anything. 

"Just go to sleep," Jason says, and Ari closes her eyes. That's what Dad always says, just close your eyes, even if you think you can't sleep, and before you know it, you will be. And it works, like always--Ari goes from sure that she won't be able to sleep to waking up the next morning.

Clarke's still there when she goes into their main room, curled in against Dad's side in his big chair, Dad resting his cheek against her head as he reads. Clarke looks like she might be asleep, and it's--nice. Dad looks relaxed, his hand idly tangled in Clarke's hair, and even though they've never done this before, it feels familiar. Right.

"Good morning," she says. Dad jerks like he's guilty. "Did Clarke stay?" she adds, going to sit on the floor next to him.

"Yeah," says Dad. He clears his throat. "It was pretty late, so--I asked if she'd stay, yeah." He looks at Ari, his face serious. "Last night, you said Clarke was ours."

"She is."

"Yeah, I think she is too." He nods, like he's agreeing with himself. "I'm going to ask her to stay again. Just--see if she wants to live with us. I'm probably going to ask her to marry me, pretty soon."

"You know I'm right here, right?" Clarke says, yawning. "Are you getting Ari's blessing?" She sits up and smiles at Ari. "It's okay if you don't think he should. I won't mind."

"Really?" Dad asks, raising his eyebrows. He sounds like he thinks it's funny.

"I've never been married before," she says. "From what I can tell, I'm not missing out on much." There's a pause, and Ari sees Clarke take Dad's hand again. "I might mind if I can't stay here, though." She kisses him on the cheek and then gets up. "Right now, I need to go home, though. I don't have clothes here." She smiles at Ari. "I'll warn you, next time I'm staying."

"It's okay," Ari says. "I like it when you're around."

Clarke ducks her head, biting her lip so hard it looks like it hurts. She leans down to kiss Ari on the head too. "See you guys later."

Dad tugs Ari up into his lap as soon as Clarke's out the door, wrapping her up in his arms. "I guess Jason's going to be the hard sell. He remembers his mom."

Ari leans her head on Dad. "It's Clarke, though. We've always had Clarke."

"Not always," Dad says, smiling. "But we're always going to have her. She's ours." He tickles her side. "And then you'll have one cool parent, right? She's a doctor. Doctors are cool."

Ari rolls her eyes. "I told you, I already brag about Clarke."

"Good," says Dad, and shoves her off him. "Go wake up your brother, we need to have breakfast."

When Dad tells Jason about Clarke, Jason just says, "Is that supposed to be a surprise?" and Dad laughs and hugs him, even though Jason says he's too old for hugs. And Ari thinks that her dad might not be the best shot in camp, or the best at tracking, or sports, but--he's the best _Dad_ ever, and no one can take that away from her. 

And he _was_ a great shot. Even if no one else knows. 

Ari grins and follows Dad and Jason to sit with Clarke for breakfast. She has the best family; no one else has to know. She knows. That's more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Clarke POV [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5691655/chapters/17722816)!


End file.
